


one more cup of coffee

by shrack



Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, coffee shop AU, except they're both regulars at the same place, rachel berry mention (derogatory), spot the oh hello reference, thats all it is baby!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:34:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29404899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrack/pseuds/shrack
Summary: Sebastian's favorite coffee shop has had a new regular lately. And normally, he'd be annoyed, but hey, at least this one is hot.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe
Comments: 11
Kudos: 54





	one more cup of coffee

**Author's Note:**

  * For [civillove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/civillove/gifts).



> written for @civillove for the seblaine gift exchange! as soon as i saw coffee shop au i knew what i had to do. enjoy! <3

Sebastian's not a complete monster. Not all the time, anyways—he's an impulsive flirt, sure, and he always likes the thrill of the chase. But in appropriate places, and  _ not  _ the middle of his favorite coffee shop.

But say there's this guy. And he's attractive, because the pickings at Columbia have worn thin (outside of the Frankie Grande-types and weird hipsters who drink kombucha in clubs), and Sebastian's growing bored with the scenery. This guy is new, but he is also almost constantly surrounded by two or three of the most irritating people that Sebastian has ever bore witness to.

So no, he's not a monster, he won't go up just to disturb their little theater kid circlejerk just to get some guy's phone number. Not because of the potential embarrassment, because there's no way in hell this hot coffee guy isn't some form of queer. Mostly because Sebastian understands the mortifying ideal of being perceived in public—he wants people to pay attention to him, sure, but if someone came up and asked for his number while he was just minding his business? He'd absolutely say no. And tell his friends about the encounter for the next year or so.

Today, though, is a little different. Hot Coffee Guy keeps checking his phone every few minutes and casting a glance at the door. It's effectively distracting Sebastian from his own work; normally he can tune out the distraction of their little improv troupe without any problems. But he keeps catching the movement of Coffee Guy out of the tops of his eyes, and it gets to the point where even  _ Sebastian  _ is hoping whoever it is shows up.

After a few more glances, the guy gets up and goes to order his coffee. Sebastian takes a moment to give him a once-over (to...check out his outfit, of course); the bright red chinos and soft-looking sweater are very nice, but way out of Sebastian’s own practically-monotone wheelhouse. The bowtie is certainly out of the question. No straight man would dress like this, right?

Well, a wise man once said that you miss the shots you don’t take. And Sebastian could use another coffee. He pockets his phone and stands up—if someone steals his things while he’s on line, at least he won’t have to worry about his identity being completely stolen. Tucking his hands in his pockets, he steps into the line, behind and slightly to the side of Coffee Guy, who checks his phone again.

"Waiting for someone?" Sebastian asks after a few moments.

Hot Coffee Guy turns with a start, and offers a polite smile. "Group project."

Sebastian hums in understanding, and pretends to squint at the menu. "Is it…the loud one with the bangs, or the Party City mannequin?"

Coffee Guy gives a surprised laugh. "That's rude. Are you following me?"

"But you know who I'm talking about."

Coffee Guy's eyes roam over Sebastian's face, and he offers the courtesy of not looking back as he does. He then sticks his hand out for a handshake. "Blaine Anderson."

"Sebastian Smythe," he says, and when he shakes Blaine's hand, he adds. "Pleasure to formally meet you."

Blaine turns back towards the front, watching the woman in front of him place her order. "So how long have you been watching me for, Sebastian?"

Sebastian chuckles. Handsome  _ and  _ funny. "In my defense, you and your posse descended on  _ my _ coffee shop when the semester started."

"So you're in school, then."

"Columbia. And yourself?"

"NYADA," Blaine says, looking over his shoulder with a proud smile. "Although I suppose you could tell we all go there, since you're so attentive."

Sebastian smirks. "It was either there or NYU Tisch."

“Tisch?” Blaine echoes incredulously, “I’m almost offended.”

“I have friends there.” Sebastian rakes his eyes over Blaine, blatantly. “You seem like you’d know them.”

“Ah,” Blaine mutters under his breath, a smile tugging at his lips. “I’m choosing to take that as a compliment.”

“Oh, you should. I have very high standards.”

“And I meet them?”

Sebastian’s smirk widens into a full-blown grin. “You blow past them.”

Blaine’s mouth opens, seemingly to protest or something, floundering for words for a moment before closing with that same slight smile. Score one for Sebastian.

They lapse back into an amicable silence as they wait for the woman in front of them to order. Blaine orders his drink, a medium drip coffee with room for milk and sugar, which Sebastian neatly stores in the back of his mind. He’s almost tempted to reach over and pay it forward, but that might be just a touch too far for the first time they’re actually talking. Again, he’s not a  _ monster.  _ Blaine steps to the side to head over to the small counter with the milk and sugar, and Sebastian’s pleasantly surprised when Blaine glances back as he goes.

Once he orders he heads over as well, where Blaine seems to be very meticulously shaking his sugar packets before adding them. Sebastian smiles to himself and props himself against the table. After a few seconds, when it's clear that Sebastian's not making any move to add anything to his drink, Blaine gives a scandalized gasp.

“No milk or sugar?”

Sebastian raises his eyebrows in surprise. “No milk or sugar.”

“And it’s just plain coffee?”

Sebastian shrugs. “An Americano. So, almost.”

Blaine scrunches his nose up into a grimace. It’s adorable (which is  _ not _ a thought Sebastian was anticipating, but it’s welcomed nonetheless). “Isn’t that just watered-down coffee?”

“Espresso,” Sebastian takes a sip, smiling behind the lid. “French parents will train you to like them whether you like it or not.”

“That’s disgusting,” Blaine says firmly, like it’s simply fact.

“You’d have to show me a different drink sometime, then.”

Blaine laughs, surprised and a bit flustered, now smiling up at Sebastian. It’s clear he wants to say more—the only time Sebastian’s good at reading people is when he’s flirting with them—but the bells ring at the door and Blaine whips his head toward it, like he’s been caught red-handed. Sebastian follows his line of sight and his smile falls slightly; in walks the Party City mannequin, in an outfit that Sebastian’s less-than-helpful brain can only describe as “space grandma”. 

“Pity,” Sebastian sighs, turning back around to Blaine, who’s holding a hand up to wave down his friend, “Have fun with your project.”

Blaine’s little “Yeah,” sounds a bit disappointed, and Sebastian quickly dismisses himself back to his own table before Blaine’s gay friend can storm all the way up. In no reality does he want to deal with that. He catches “Kurt” and a brief apology as he walks away, and part of him is now very,  _ very _ curious.

He was not exactly subtle with his flirting technique. Not to make assumptions about two gay(?) guys, but unless Blaine has some, ah,  _ infidelity _ problems brewing, it doesn’t seem like those two are dating. Maybe they did at some point—that would at least make sense for the apology. Sebastian tries to push it aside in favor of actually getting his work done, like he  _ had _ set out to do today, but finances aren’t nearly as entertaining as trying to parse this whole thing out. He has time.

It’s unspoken, at this point, that this seat is unequivocally Sebastian’s. Up against the side wall, in the chair facing outward so he can people-watch. His bag usually sits in the dark wood seat across from him, so nobody makes assumptions about whether or not he’s waiting for someone. The key to sitting in public is to make yourself completely avoidable—nothing is more mortifying than being clocked at the coffee shop.

And, really, nobody seems to care here. The atmosphere is warm yet impersonal, with its exposed brick accent walls and dark, warm-toned interior. The people who flutter in are twofold; either they’re tired commuters just trying to survive the day (but, of course, still have higher standards than the Dunkin’ on every corner) or college-to-mid-thirties people who just want to get their work done in peace. There’s an unspoken agreement to not talk to one another unless you have a bag that needs to be watched, or a complaint to lodge.

Every so often, the jingle of the bell by the door will ring and it’ll make Sebastian look up. He likes the ambient noise more than he likes listening to music (and part of that may be because of the thrill of eavesdropping on drama that doesn’t involve him), but even he’ll admit that it can get distracting sometimes. He’ll take the time to glance over at Blaine’s table, and four out of five times Blaine is minding his own business, chatting with Kurt and trying to figure out whatever it is they’re trying to do. But the fifth time, Blaine’s eyes will be on him, Kurt chatting away but disregarded, and Sebastian rolls his eyes as a peace offering. Blaine bites his lip to muffle a laugh, and Sebastian turns back to his equally boring work.

Finally, after some amount of time that feels simultaneously too long and not long enough, Sebastian vaguely clocks out of the corner of his eye that Kurt and Blaine have stood up, and he tries his best not to obviously watch them as they go. The bell rings once, presumably the two of them leaving, but the second ring closely follows, and it makes Sebastian lift his head in curiosity. Blaine’s performing a little “lost my wallet” ritual, patting his coat and pants pockets, and swings by his past table to give it a once-over. When that turns up nothing, he offers a sheepish smile to Sebastian and walks up to him.

“You haven’t seen my wallet, have you?” Blaine asks. Sebastian casts a glance over at the large floor-to-ceiling windows of the front of the shop and quickly spots Kurt looking in. Interesting. He shakes his head.

“No, sorry.”

“Pity,” Blaine echoes Sebastian’s own words back to him under his breath. He reaches into his coat pocket and produces a small strip of paper, sliding it across Sebastian’s open notebook. “Call me if you find it?”

Sebastian grins. “It’s in your bag, isn’t it?”

Blaine shrugs and says, “No way of knowing,” before turning on a heel to head back out the front door.

So, Sebastian makes it a reward. Not half an hour goes by until he’s finally finished his work and he lets himself pull his phone out. Good incentive, he should try this more often. He saves Blaine’s number and shoots him a text.

**Sebastian:** _ no sign of the wallet. im searching frantically. _

With a satisfied sigh, he starts packing his things. Before Sebastian finishes, he leaves the table to toss his cup and, when he returns and grabs his phone, he has a text waiting for him.

**Blaine:** _ Oh, you know what? It actually was in my bag. False alarm. :) _

**Sebastian:** _ well i guess you dont need this number, then _

**Blaine:** _ I’m sure I’ll find some use for it. _

They text for the rest of the day. On and off, between each of their respective classes, the conversation veering into the mundane like how boring Blaine thinks his mandatory math class is or Sebastian’s feud with the kid who always tries to steal his seat. Sebastian’s pleasantly surprised at how easy it comes—he’s the type to prefer a text over a call any day, sure, but that doesn’t mean he actively keeps up with a lot of people, and that includes the people he’s in class with.

Finally, though, Blaine pops the question.

Not...that question. That’d be insane.

**Blaine:** _ Do you plan on getting coffee tomorrow? _

Sebastian glances up, almost as if he’s trying to make eye contact with someone in his apartment who isn’t there for validation, before sending back an affirmative.

Blaine responds, “ _ Would you want to go together? Consider it a spontaneous first date before an actual one. _ ”

**Sebastian:** _ its not very spontaneous if you just asked me if i would be there...but yes _

**Blaine:** _ I’ll be thinking of new, better coffees for you to try until then _

**Sebastian:** _ youll be thinking of me when you go to bed? scandalous, killer _

Blaine shoots back a gif of a child shrugging, which Sebastian reacts with a heart to and sets his phone aside. He doesn’t  _ think _ he’s lonely; he’s got friends in classes, he keeps himself busy, but only now does it dawn on him that maybe he missed talking to people because he genuinely likes them. It’s usually out of need for a partner in a class, or a sounding board for comebacks in drama that exists outside of his own social circle. Can it even really be a circle if the most you text people is to see if they know an answer to your homework, or when an assignment is due? Social line. Social...whatever.

Sebastian sighs and pushes himself off his couch. Well, there’s no better time to change than the present.

Fridays don’t bring much schoolwork with them, thankfully. It’s practically a fluke that he even has classes today—both of them are follow-ups for his other classes, which function as mostly time to ask questions to the professor and start to do future homework. So, he’s the one meeting up with Blaine this time, and as he steps off the subway he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, presumably Blaine texting him that he got there.

It’s almost like Manhattan knows when someone’s in a rush, because then everyone and their mothers has somewhere to go on a Friday afternoon. People nearly shoulder-check Sebastian constantly, and even the slight height advantage doesn’t make people notice him any earlier than someone short. Sebastian nearly knocks into someone snotty, terrible child when he turns a corner, and gets shouted at by a mother who is more coat than woman as he leaves. Perfect. Just perfect.

Once he  _ finally _ makes it inside, Sebastian gets waved over by Blaine to his regular table, and he feels his shoulders slump in relief. He never realizes how tense he is until he gets somewhere safe. It’s probably absolutely destroying his back. He shrugs his jacket off and, when he hangs it over the back of his chair, he notices that there is an extra coffee cup in front of his empty seat.

Sebastian nods his head towards the cup. “What’s that?”

Blaine just smiles innocently. “Drink it and find out.”

“If you’re trying to poison me, I’m going to be offended.” He says this as he pulls his chair out, and Blaine takes the moment to reach out and nudge the coffee closer with his fingertips.

“You don’t trust me?”

Sebastian looks wary as he sits down and reaches for the cup; Blaine rests his chin on one of his hands as he waits expectantly. When he drinks it, it’s not  _ bad _ by any means, but Sebastian still scrunches his nose in not so much disgust as it is surprise. “It’s sweet.”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “It’s called sugar. You’ll get used to it.”

“You’re buying?” Blaine nods, so Sebastian just smirks and continues, “Well, then I have to get used to it.”

It’s not the first spontaneous first date that Sebastian’s been on, but it's definitely the most pleasant. Prior to this, “spontaneous” for Sebastian mostly meant that he bumped into someone on the dance floor and they both drunkenly decided that this was their first date. Or, even better, that one time where a classmate used a group project as an excuse to try and come onto Sebastian. First dates just don’t typically go well.

But Sebastian’s pleasantly surprised with how much they actually do have in common. After ten minutes of minor bickering, any tension Sebastian was still holding in his shoulders relaxes. Because, really, one flirty conversation means nothing in terms of compatibility. It could just as easily have been a quick date, a total fluke that they have any sort of thing in common, and they would part ways without so much as a goodbye and a firm handshake. Sebastian sure as hell knows that. But instead Sebastian finds it just as easy to fire back shots as much as Blaine apparently does. Blaine is happy to fill in the quiet spaces about things he’s passionate about, be it his high school show choir days or his theoretical future on Broadway. When Sebastian admits he always liked singing, just never imagined it going somewhere for him, Blaine looks so sad that Sebastian has to promise to sing a duet with him some time. 

“You promise?” Blaine had asked, a teasing grin on his face, and Sebastian knew he was completely fucked.

He reveals that Kurt is his ex, which Sebastian counts mentally as a win that he’s still got it. Sebastian skirts the question when it gets reflected back on him, and is relieved when Blaine doesn’t pry. 

After a while, when both of their coffees are empty, yet they haven’t run out of things to say, Blaine picks his phone up. He unlocks it and sighs before placing it back down. “I’ve gotta go. Rachel wants to help me rehearse for the Winter showcase.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows raise. “That’s a big deal at NYADA, isn’t it?”

“Only the best of the best perform,” Blaine says, moving to stand up. “Not to brag.”

“Please, brag,” Sebastian wets his lips and watches Blaine rise. “Confidence looks good on you.”

Blaine breathes a laugh and throws his coat on, glancing at Sebastian out of the corner of his eye. “I could, um, get you a ticket. Only if you wanted, of course.”

“I’d be honored,” Sebastian chuckles, folding his arms over his chest, “Is that your idea of a proper first date?”

Blaine looks at him and his face falls. It makes Sebastian want to slap anyone who has ever said anything mean to Blaine, ever. “I mean, you don’t have to watch me perform if you don’t want, I know it’s not for everyone—”

“Blaine, hey,” Sebastian interrupts, placing a hand on the outside of Blaine’s forearm, “I’d love to go. Is it rude to leave after you perform? No sense in watching anyone else after you wipe the floor with them.”

Blaine scoffs and bites his bottom lip, clearly considering something as he searches Sebastian’s face for a moment. He must find it (or not, Sebastian really has no clue), because he smiles again, that bright smile that makes  _ something _ happen in Sebastian’s chest. “I’ll text you the details.”

Sebastian tilts his head and smiles back. “Patience isn’t my strong suit.”

“You’ll survive.” As he walks past, Blaine pats Sebastian comfortingly on the shoulder, and when Sebastian turns to watch him leave, Blaine’s looking over his shoulder back at him. He offers a small wave, turns back around, and exits. 

Now, Sebastian’s not a monster, but he can be impulsive. He’s not quite sure if those things are related, but as he watches Blaine make a right outside and start walking, he has this nagging  _ urge _ to get up and go do something about it. Another few seconds pass, he thinks,  _ fuck it _ , and hops up.

He snaps and points at his belongings, making the person sitting two tables over jump and look over, mildly annoyed. “Watch my stuff, I’ll buy you a refill when I come back.”

“What—” they protest, but Sebastian’s already jogging out the door and making that same right.

Luckily, there are significantly less people wandering around—or maybe they’re just shorter this time—but it only takes a few seconds to spot Blaine crossing the street up ahead, in the direction of the subway. 

It’s not a scene out of a rom-com, but it’s not far off. He doesn’t push through any crowds, shouting Blaine’s name. When he crosses the street, the light is green and he has time to spare. He doesn’t lose Blaine in the crowd once, because he’s colored brightly enough that it’d be hard to miss him even if it was rush hour. Blaine comes to a stop at the end of the block, waiting to cross, and Sebastian jogs a half-step to stop next to him.

Blaine turns to look who is standing so close to him, mild annoyance (a staple ‘New Yorker Walking Around’ look) shifting into amusement. “Can I help you?” He glances down, clocks that Sebastian isn’t wearing his jacket, and frowns. “Aren’t you cold? Where’s your jacket?”

“Left it back there,” Sebastian sighs, turning to face Blaine. “I’m trying to lean into the spontaneous.”

Blaine laughs, “Is that so?”

Sebastian nods. He’s not really sure why he’s nervous—he’s never been nervous to kiss people before, and he’s done so with even less information in even more public places. But he doesn’t want to mess this  _ specific  _ one up, and that’s definitely a new instinct. To not mess something up. To not be so horribly impulsive that he blows the whole thing (and  _ not _ in the fun way). He slides a hand to cup the side of Blaine’s neck, half-expecting Blaine to yank back and cross the street preemptively in an attempt to get away. But Blaine takes the hint and rocks onto his toes to meet Sebastian halfway in a kiss.

He smiles when he realizes he can still taste the coffee. Somewhere, someone claps, and Blaine grins against his lips when he hears it. When they break apart, Blaine’s got a blush riding high on his cheeks; could be the cold, could be that Sebastian’s just looking up close for the first time. Blaine mumbles, “Your hand is so cold.” 

Sebastian rolls his eyes and moves his hand to pat Blaine’s cheek, making him flinch slightly and laugh again. “See you around, Killer.” 

He moves to step back and head towards the coffee shop again when Blaine calls, “Hopefully before the showcase?”

Sebastian smirks and nods. “I’ll hold my breath.”

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr is also shrack, if you dare...


End file.
